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Forgotten
'Nothing to See Here' Lynn Hothlight/Late Afternoon to Evening 1/Somewhere "Care to find out?" Lynn's hand slipped beneath the tails of her surcoat to caress the hilt of the knife on her thigh. "You rid Hyrule of Taden's vile touch for a few centuries, perhaps, but blame for my possession falls squarely in your lap. Had you managed to eradicate Hothnight, we would not be her, now, would we? So... if you care to risk even more of the innocent lives you claim to protect, then carry on as you are. Let us find out what will happen. If, however, you would prefer to see the Hated eliminated, for all and ever, then let me finish my work and be gone from here." Chamdar's fingers flexed around Aurgelmir's hilt, but the sword stayed sheathed. His restraint was too much to make a bigger scene in the midst of the uninvolved villagers. His lips twisted in the mildest hint of a sneer, words beginning to form before the innkeeper interrupted his burgeoning response. "Listen. Both of you. Keep your voices down and argue your end of the world conspiracy theories in the corner, and I'll get you both another glass of drink. If not, then get out! We don't want any of your trouble-making doom and gloom hero fantasies here in the Ragged Maiden, and we really don't need'em! We've got our own problems; we've got real problems. No need for you making up any more of your own and trying to sell'em on us!" Lynn's gaze flicked to the middle aged man, ready to put him in his place and show him what a real problem Taden was. Chamdar had other ideas. "Yes. These people should be neither of our concerns, Annei. Your threatening them does little to convince me of your freedom or sincerity." Lynn gave a soft derisive snort. "I threaten no one. I merely warn you against the potential collateral damages of a-" "Enough!" shouted the innkeeper. "Out! Both of you! Out!" Chamdar took the opportunity to side the man, forcing Lynn to exit the Inn even as he was being manhandled out, albeit cooperatively. Despite Taliesin's advanced age, his Scion heritage was enough to see Lynn through the door with her blade still sheathed. The innkeeper dusted his hands as he returned to his patrons. From inside Lynn heard him say, "There. Now. Who needs another round? There's more to drink long as you've still got more to pay for it." Chamdar squared off against her. She almost smirked at that. Not so confident now you've no innocents to hide behind, eh, Taliesin? But she had lost interest in this mummer's farce. Chamdar was not the enemy, even if he was no more an ally. She had to find the new-come stranger the villagers had mentioned. She had to be certain Taden's taint would not corrupt this village. With luck, those people inside would stay innocents. And if they didn't, she was prepared to do what needed to be done for the sake of the greater good. Chamdar took a moment to scan the area for any potential victims of the fight he no doubt expected her to give him. Now, at that she did smile as she slipped away into the night-time shadows of the street. Chamdar Taliesin - Gilba Gilba Streets - Evening One Aurgelmir burned cold as the depths of Snowpeak as Chamdar watched Annei steal away into the encroaching darkness. He suppressed a sigh, knowing that the Sheikah girl might well still be about. In fact, he was certain that she was, for the blade still radiated its inner chill, still reacted to the piece of Hothnight's soul embedded within her. After six months, it was confirmed. The Hated soul still held sway within her, there could no longer be any doubt. He was unsure if she was even aware, but he'd seen enough. Eventually he would draw his blade in anger against her, and her soul would suffer a fate it was never meant to suffer. Collateral damage would be unavoidable. For now, though, it was only verification he'd required. To get a full measure, recent and accurate, was necessary in order to move forward with the next phase. The innkeeper's brother, he thought it was Glen, had pulled up with a wagon full of wine, but it was a large chest he heft under one arm and staggered with to and through the Maiden's front door. He could hear chatter back and forth from within, but none of it concerned him overmuch. These people wanted little to do with the events plaguing the rest of Hyrule, and he was happy enough to leave them in peace for as long as he could. Order still prevailed in Gilba Gilba, if of a peculiar sort, and he wasn't one to inflict the chaos of war upon that. No, let the village folk here maintain their illusions for as long as possible. With no business in Gilba Gilba any longer, Chamdar adjusted the drape of his robes and, using his carved staff as a walking stick, he strode through the murk down the winding, cobbled thoroughfare. He passed beneath a wooden arch, the road turned to packed dirt beneath his boots, and he approached the wood, where the path ahead meandered into and eventually was lost beyond the trees. And still, he realized, Aurgelmir burned cold on his hip. His left hand, unburdened by the wooden haft, came up and an orb of radiant white-gold light burst to life around it, illuminating the area, revealing that which was hidden. "Pursue me not, Lynn Annei," he called sternly into the night. "Now is not the time for fates to be decided. There is much yet to be done, ere the time is right." Taden Horwendil / Forest Inn / Night 1 Just past the torchlight in the distance, Taden heard the loud clunk of the shopkeeper's brother dropping his locked chest to the ground beside his wagon. He had escaped into the cover of the underbrush with more than enough time to spare. From his perch along the Inn woodline, Taden could see Taliesin draw near the forested trails and enter, a ball of light following him as he receded. Almost as if he wanted it to be known where he absconded, or merely cast off whatever shadows may lurk behind, the monk slouched away under a curtain of shimmering daylight. Anything more Taden could have learned from him tonight would have to wait for another time. Not so for the shadowclad girl Chamdar had followed to this town. What did she have to offer? He sat on a stump munching a mouthful of bacon and baguette, watching her slight figure with steady eyes in the deepening dark. As she approached the rear of the Inn, where the frost of his shattered window still glittered in the starlight, he took a final swig of his wine flask, and rose to his feet. "'Hoy, you there," he called, in a high tone, not so loud as to rouse anyone inside, but enough to make the woman stall and vanish into the shadow. "Can you teach me to do that?" She was invisible, impossibly melted into the shadows on the side of the Inn's wall as if nothing were there. He could see only the virtue in such surreptitious skill. "Tell you what," he said, leaning back against the narrow wall, "These rednecks got ahold of something bigger'n they know what to do with." He folded his hands behind his head and glanced up at the stars. "If you help me nab that muscley fella's treasure chest, I'll split whatever's inside with ya. The two of us oughta be enough to hoist it off fast enough. Heck, I'll let you keep the whole thing, if you show me a trick or two." Around the corner from them, at the entrance to the Inn, the man unpacking the wagon had stepped inside to deposit another crate. His chest was left unattended for the moment, out by the wagon Taden had already pilfered earlier. Taden looked left and right, one eye open and searching for any sign of the ninja. "Whaddya say?" Lynn Hothlight/Evening 1/Inn Lynn watched a brief moment as Chamdar limped away with his staff and then made her way around the Inn, avoiding the new arrival with his cart and chest. He was of no concern to her. She slunk warily toward the storage room window and paused. It was already shattered and rimed. How..? Her investigation was interrupted by a quiet voice calling out to her. "Hoy, you there, can you teach me to do that?" She melted against the side of the Inn, shifting to hide herself from the voice's owner. She spotted the young boy easily enough where he leaned against a nearby wall. "Tell you what," he said, full of confidence, "These rednecks got ahold of something bigger'n they know what to do with. If you help me nab that muscley fella's treasure chest, I'll split whatever's inside with ya. The two of us oughta be enough to hoist it off fast enough. Heck, I'll let you keep the whole thing, if you show me a trick or two." Snot-nosed brat. She sneered at his offer. But somehow, oddly, he triggered a memory buried deep inside her. A young Kae Bryseis, crying in the training area. Trying so hard to learn, but having no one willing to spend time on her teaching. It was Lynn Annei who had finally taken that little girl under her wing. It was Lynn Annei who had helped create the Scion of Nayru. But it was also Lynn who had abandoned Kae to her war-torn fate. No, it was Lynn who had thrown her headlong and as-yet ill-prepared to the wolves of that fate. Perhaps a new apprentice would help to alleviate some of that guilt. Perhaps in this child, she could undo the terror she had wreaked in the life of Kae. "Whaddya say?" She stepped from the shadowed wall of the inn, revealing herself to the boy. "I say the chest is of little to no concern, and hardly a good lesson. There are more important things to be done, and more important skills to be taught." She pointed to the broken window. "I have quarry in this inn; a man who could potentially threaten not only this entire village but the world at large." She beckoned the child to join her. "How soft is your step, boy?" Taden Horwendil / Ragged Maiden Inn / Midnight 1 "The colder the night, the deeper the sleep." Spreading his fingers out with his palm down, Taden lowered his hand as if he were telling his newfound companion to keep her voice down, and the temperature of the second story hall where they lurked began to fall. The cold air seeped through the seam of the wooden door on the other side of which lay their sleeping stranger. A faint blue light emanated from Taden's hand in churning wisps of blue flame. "Not a bad trick," the stealthy woman sneered. "But I'm curious to see how you get past this door?" Taden tried the doorknob and turned it slowly, revolving it until he met the resistance of a lock. Looking left and right, he squatted down and looked through the thin keyhole, seeing the dying embers of the guest's small fire, catching the slightest whiff of an overcooked cabbage. This strange guest hadn't been listed on the ledger. He brought two fingers up to the keyhole gingerly, then carefully began to turn the knob again. When it stopped, a quick spark of Blue Fire coated the handle. Out of the gap of the small keyhole there now hung a thin crystal shard. Taden balled it up in his hand and turned to face his accomplice. "Will this do?" he said, opening his hand to reveal a small, jagged key made of glistening ice. His new mentor furrowed her brow, studying the thing in his hand, then reached for it herself. He drew it back quickly, and looked up to catch her eye. "One more thing," he whispered, his breath clouding as he spoke. "Fair's fair. If I help you find your mark, you help me find mine." He extended his hand, offering the makeshift key. The dark woman considered the key for a moment, looking at the crude shard in the boy's hand, with its delicately shaped teeth on the fine end. Then she plucked it from his hand. "And who might that be?" "It would appear you know him well, whoever you are." He suppressed a smirk and glared at her, the sapphire spark in his eyes reflecting in her own. "Chamdar Taliesin." Chamdar Taliesin – On the Road – Midnight One Wearily, warily, Chamdar wandered north along the wooded way, ever wondering, his mind walking familiar paths through the past. Such was his way, this venerable vagrant, this timeworn tramp. Especially of late, half of his mind tended to sleep and delve, whilst the other half lay awake, ever conscious, always alert. The partition between the two parts of his consciousness—one cognizant and the other abstracted—was a thing few others could accomplish, a thing that came only from a thousand years and more of self-mastery. His waking mind watched the road ahead, meandering in and out of the trees. It reveled in the brilliance of the moon on a cold winter night in the south of Hyrule, and the stars glittering in the vast, milky blue-black expanse like crystals of ice suspended in the heavens. His dreaming mind continued back, tracing the trajectory of his life in reverse, past all of the wars and the schemes and the conflicts. That part of his mind returned back to the beginning, and as he began to recall again the days of his youth, somewhere in his pocket a golden light began to blink, all unseen. Adjacent an Ancient Camp – The Land Before Time He'd presented for Celeste a brave face, pretending not to care that he'd been weighed and measured in the eyes of the Goddesses, only to be found lacking. The truth was that inside, he was simmering. Of course they were probably right. He might be a good fighter, for a mortal man, but what chance had he against Demise or any of his Primordials? Any one of them could tear him apart, so ancient and vicious and hateful were they. So powerful. Upon their return, and at his first opportunity, Chamdar had parted ways with the Living Goddess. Even in the private recesses of his mind, it still felt strange to consider her such. Oh, she'd been a goddess in his eyes long before the Three had spake her calling, but matters were different now. There was a distance between them he'd never felt, and he knew she felt it too. He walked now along the bank of an old river. The water was turgid, sluggish, bubbling through the shallows, swirling around rocks coated in slimy, wet moss. At a spot where the bank was almost level with the river's surface, he stopped and, bending down, scooped up a flat rock from the dirt. After regarding it for a moment, tracing the inconsistently looping lines of different mineral compositions, he cast it across the water with a casual flick of the wrist, watching it skip thrice before it disappeared beneath the surface. A few more times he did this, bending all of his focus upon the stones, pushing all else from his thoughts. It was night beneath a bright sky; the wind was warm and smelled like swaying grasses. It was almost enough to soothe him. Almost. He did not flinch when he heard the crunch of footsteps approaching from behind. For an instant the air cooled, and he knew without glancing back over his shoulder that the one approaching could be no other but Polaris Eridanus, the enigmatic, wizened crimson Zora. The Red Ice General. "I thought I might find you out here," came Polaris' low voice. After a few more crunching footfalls, the Zora stepped up to Chamdar's right side, looking out even as he was to the gently babbling watercourse. "Hylia told me what the Goddesses said." Chamdar grimaced. Of course she had. After all, why wouldn't she entrust the information to her noble guardian? Since his arrival, Polaris had done nothing but show himself to be one of unimpeachable honor and unyielding strength. He was a warrior, an advisor of great wisdom, and a trusted confidante. Of course, that didn't mean a damn thing to Chamdar just then. Still, it was impossible for him to direct whatever residual anger and resentment he might feel in the general's direction. "It makes no difference," he said softly in answer. "Celeste sought a warder, a guardian, when she already has one. You provide greater strength than ever I could." Silence enveloped them for an instant then as a warm summer breeze ruffled his hair and whipped at his coat. "There are all different types of strength," Polaris said at last. "The strength of a man's arm, or what force of magic he possesses... these are but a few. Hylia draws strength of will from you, Chamdar. She draws comfort from you, and the resolve she needs to do what must be done. That is a kind of strength that I will never be able to offer her." Chamdar's mouth twisted sourly, as though tasting the words of the Red Ice General and finding them bitter on his tongue. He almost spat. "What good does such strength offer if I lack the power to keep her safe?" Silence again. In his periphery, he saw the Red Ice General give him a sidelong glance, his eyes knowing. "I think you're more than you understand, Chamdar," he mused. "And in the end, what does it matter what the Goddesses have to say on the matter? If you would be Hylia's guardian, then be so. Piss on their logic and their protestations. If that is what you would be... then be." Without another word between them, the red-scaled Zora, so old and so wise of the ways of the world, turned and headed back into the night, back in the direction of their encampment, back to whatever duties had been laid upon him. And, alone once more, Chamdar realized that he was right. Lynn Hothlight/Mignight 1/Inn Lynn's brow creased in contemplation. "What business would you have with Chamdar?" The impish little boy just gave her a mischievous smirk, dangling the key as a question between them. It wasn't as though she needed help with this quest. She didn't even want help. The less people wrapped up in the affairs of Taden, the better. But still... some small part of her wanted to leave a better legacy than that which she was already building. And knowing the old Scion, they were going to run into each other sooner or later, whether she sought him or not. She shrugged. "Taliesin seems to gravitate toward me, though admittedly I do not try to avoid him. Stick with me, kid, and you're bound to meet him at some point." She shifted her gaze to the door. "But, now, let's see what this mystery guest is hiding..." Her new apprentice nodded assent and silently slid his makeshift skeleton key into the lock. Just before he began to turn it, footsteps came clunking up the stairs at the end of the hall. Lynn melted into the shadows as the Inn-Keeper crested the top of the staircase. The boy at the door failed to react as quickly and was caught in the middle of the hall. "You!" grumbled the old man at the stairs. "Bet you're the one filching from the pantry, you little brat!" ' IC: Taden Horwendil / Gilba Gilba / Midnight 1' “Bet you're the one filching from the pantry, you little brat!" Taden froze in the hall as the big lug loomed before him. With his hands still on the doorknob and the crude ice key, all he could think to do was turn the lock and dash into the room. “Stop! Thief!” Taden scanned the room in a panic, until he saw an open window with curtains fluttering on its far side. A thin beam of moonlight poured over a wide, empty bed strewn with hide pelts and straw quickly thrown aside. He dove towards the wall and rolled under the crooked bed. The innkeeper poked his head into the dark room, and raised a small, hissing lantern to his squinting eyes to look around. “Oh ho ho! Ol’ Blommy knows how to deal with the likes of you…,” the man called Blom snickered into the darkness. Taden could only see the towering innkeeper’s feet from his position under the bed, wrapped in mudstained canvas houseshoes, but as he raised a clomping foot to enter the room, a slew of caltrops silently slipped underneath from the shadows. When the man stomped down, he let out a cry of pain and seized one foot in his hands, nail tips sunk deep into his instep. “Din’s tits!” he shouted, hopping around the room on one leg. Taden watched him draw close in the bouncing lamplight, and before his pursuer could right himself Taden spat out a Yeti curse that slapped a small ice patch on the floor out in front of him. Blom slipped over the ice and went head over heels onto the clattering floorboards, flinging his lantern high into the air. As the great shopkeep’s girth slammed into the floor, his lamp shattered on the foot of the bed Taden hid beneath and burst into flame over the fur blankets and straw. He scampered back to beneath the headboard, and it was there his hands fell on the ornate pommel of a small, thin shortsword in a blue leather sheath, tucked into the bedframe. “Huh?” Taden thought, pulling the weapon close, but with no time to study its emblems. All of a sudden the bedposts shook all around him, and as the fire spread over the floor Blom flipped the burning bed over against the far wall to expose his quarry like a cornered rat. “Good bye. Good riddance,” Blom gritted through stained teeth. In one fell swoop, he grabbed Taden by the leg and smashed him into the burning wall, blasting through the thin wood and hurtling the boy and down into the rear yard of the inn. He landed by the treeline in a heaping bonfire of debris. Taden coughed and struggled to rise to his hands and knees. As he craned his neck up, he caught a glimpse of Blom standing tall on the inn’s upper floor, silhouetted against the flames and dancing embers that lined the jagged teeth of the demolished wall. Even from the ground, Taden could see the smirk lining Blomgrin’s face, wet eyes and teeth shining in the flame. “I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but you’ve caused nothing but strife since before even we met.” A dark chuckle echoed above the cackling flames as Blom hunched down, then leapt into the night air to land before Taden with an earth-shattering crash, a crater bursting from under his burlap shoes. Taden’s panic only deepened as Blom loosed the heavy staff slung around his broad shoulder, and wielded it with both hands over Taden’s head. He hoisted it high, Taden shrunk back from the blow, but when he closed his eyes Blom suddenly gasped and stopped breathing. He looked up at Blomgrin, and saw him clutching his throat, eyes bloodshot and agape as his staff plopped to the earth. He wobbled on his massive legs, then drooped to both knees, blood gurgling up and dribbling down his lips. For a moment, his eyes met Taden's, and the sheer homicidal rage behind his gaze slowly gave way to a resigned vacancy. He collapsed into the dirt inches from Taden’s face. And in the back of Blom’s neck, he saw the same shard of ice that he had fastened into a key only moments before. “But how?” he asked aloud. Then looking up, he saw a second shadow outlined against the growing flames: the long figure of Lynn Hothlight. Under one arm, she held a small locked chest on her hip, its metalwork shining bright silver in the fire and moonlight. He rose to his feet and tried to call out to Lynn, but raising his voice started a coughing fit, so he waved the small sheathed sword in the air towards her. Her narrow eyes searched the smoldering wreckage below; casualties aside, their Hylian enemy eluded them still. Lynn Hothnite/Midnight 1/Inn Lynn dropped down from the second floor of the inn, treasure chest held under her arm. She cast a brief, dispassionate gaze onto the corpse of the innkeeper, the icy blade of her magicks beginning to melt in the nape of his neck. Her nose briefly wrinkled in judgement of the dead fool. She tossed the chest at the surviving child's feet. "Here's your damn chest. What the hell were you doing? That was... well, that was awful. One of the weakest showings I've ever seen from an apprentice. You've got a lot of learning to do. Best to stick with me, lest you get killed, with the stupid chances you're taking, based off that poor showing." She stepped past the boy. Wherever that supposed messenger from the crown went, that was where she had to be. More than likely, he was the source of corruption she was sensing. "Come, child. We have work to do, and you have learning to do. Don't fall behind." She made her way to leave the Inn. It was now a matter of finding that man. "How is your tracking skills.Do you think you can track the man who fled from that room? Show me." Everything was a test. 'This Doesn't Fit Anywhere Else' Whie Malreaux/Late Night 1/A Forest Night held the woods in a tight grip of darkness. The moon and the stars were hidden by a vast pall of clouds, but not even that light would have penetrated the thick forest canopy. Such would have only been physical light, anyway, and of no help to Whie Malreaux. He clambered through the trees, thoughtless as to his destination or direction. The Monkey Mask hung on his hip, banging against his thigh. The tap-tap-tapping beat out the cadence of his aimless flight, whispering in his soul. He tore at the foliage around him, attacking the leaves as though they had borne these foreign thoughts. A feral growl rumbled up from deep in his throat, a vain attempt to drown out that soft insisting voice. Find her. Find her. Find her. He threw himself into the trunk of a tree, hammering a coiled fist into it. A new cadence drummed against the rough bark, pulsing with the pain in his knuckles. Find her. Find her. Find her. But he didn't know where even to look. He didn't know what to do but tear his way through the forest in a blind search for someone who wasn't even there. Find her. Find her. Find her. Leaning against a tree would do no good, though. That much was certain. She wasn't going to be here, if she wasn't here. She had to be somewhere though! Somewhere other than here... He took off through the underbrush once more, thorns and branches tearing at his skin and clothes. 'Ordon Escape' Ayala/Great Fairy Fountain/Evening 1 “So this is where the fruits of all those raids have been stored. You know all this stuff might be of more use if you brought it back to base.” Len said as he crept into the hidden outpost. In less time than it took blink every Marine present and snapped to and Len quickly found Cheek’s sword pressed uncomfortably close to his throat. Crim followed in just behind him initially unable to see the warm response they were getting “It’s always great to here the laziest man in the whole damn army to bitch about what other people aren’t do-” He was cut off by Point who had snuck behind him and now had a dagger poking into his back. “Sounds like someone’s just mad I out rank them now,” Len shot back while paying little mind to the man that had him at sword point. “Yes, make jokes while unstable fanatics are threatening us.” Crim responded. “You’re the one insulting them. Anyway, let’s all play nice now,” Len said as he gently pushed Cheek’s to the side, “we’re all ‘elite’ troops here and on the same side. We just came by to pick up that nice girl in the green armor and we’ll be on our way.” Cheek sighed and sheathed his sword once he realized just who he was dealing with, “Oh great, it’s the “special” forces. You know you have a lot of nerve trying to compare yourselves to us being that you’re all just a bunch of rejects shoved into a suicide squad.” “Say’s the loon without a real name,” Crim yelled back. “Which one are you anyway, Peen, Butt, Tang Pin? And by the way why is it the Marines are the ones hiding in the desert while we’re the ones going off secure a port?” While the two continued their pissing contest Len head over to Ayala who was far too in engrossed in here battle preparations to notice what was going one. It wasn’t until Len dropped a scarf on her head that she finally snapped out of her trance. “Huh, what’s this,” she while looking at the scarf only to turn around and notice Len wearing one just like it. “That is a lieutenant’s scarf. Congratulations you’ve been promoted. I was too it would seem,” he said as he tugged on the one wrapped around his own neck. “Now grab you stuff, apparently we have to go sneak into Ordon. Fun times.” Ayala seemed less the enthusiastic about the sudden mission, “What are you talking about. We’re about to have a major battle, I can’t leave.” “Yeah we’re a distraction, or they’re a distraction of us or something. Look I don’t know it’s some big picture crap. Either way we gotta get out of here before Sword Name and Womanizer kill each other.” Len said as he pointed back toward the still bickering Crim an Cheek. __FORCETOC__